


Love at First Sight

by starsoverhead



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:33:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsoverhead/pseuds/starsoverhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by an anon on Tumblr:  Hotch/Reid - Shopping for furniture to decorate their new house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love at First Sight

“I don’t like IKEA,” Spencer said, wrinkling his nose.

“Why?” Aaron asked, a little amused and a little dumbfounded.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat, half-turning toward Hotch where he was driving. “They’re overpriced for what they call design and everything from them looks the same. Boxy, so-called ‘clean lines’, covered in leather.”

“You know, they have chairs that are kind of … plush and round, too,” Aaron offered, but Spencer still shook his head. “Okay, okay, if IKEA’s off the table, then where?”

“Big Lots? They’ve got cheap furniture. Or maybe the ReStore? Goodwill?”

“Big Lots, maybe,” Aaron allowed, “but I don’t want furniture that I feel like I’ve got to steam clean before I can let it in my house.”

Spencer looked positively scandalised when he looked over at Aaron. “Oh, come on. Just because it’s secondhand doesn’t mean it’s terrible.”

“Three words: your orange couch.”

“Okay, just because that couch was terrible doesn’t mean all of it is. And I didn’t even get it in a store. I got it from an ad in the laundromat.”

“If you can say no IKEA, I can say absolutely no furniture from laundromat ads.”

“I won’t even start to protest that,” Spencer agreed and Aaron rolled his eyes. “Okay, then how about… There. Ashley. How about that?”

“…Expensive,” he said, “but we can look.”

Aaron signalled his turn, taking the concession while he could.

True to form, the showroom looked rich and perfectly designed. “God, this looks like my mom’s house,” he muttered under his breath.

“It was your idea,” Spencer reminded and Aaron sighed.

“Yes, it was, come on, let’s look at furniture.”

With a smug look, Spencer wandered into the fray of designer-arranged furniture, ignoring the odd little wicker balls in wooden bowls and finials on tables in favour of the sofas, chairs, loveseats, and recliners that were waiting to be bought.

It was when Spencer spotted his first chair-and-a-half that Aaron wondered if he should be jealous. The man he loved proved that, when he had a reason, he could be graceful. His reason was to plop himself into the wide chair with a pleased moan of a sound and proceed to claim it with his legs draped over the arm.

“This is mine,” Spencer said, hugging the cushion that had been sitting where his rear end now was. The chair was wide, plush, upholstered in a rich red with coffee-brown patterning - almost garish, Aaron thought, and it showed on his face.

“In that colour?” he asked, half-resigned and half hoping he could change Spencer’s mind.

“I don’t see it in any other colour,” Spencer retorted.

“…Look, there’s another one that wide right over there, and it’s in suede, and it’s a nice, neutral—”

Spencer cut him off. “This is my chair.”

“…Can we at least keep looking?”

“Yes,” he said, “but this is my chair.”

Three days later, the house was furnished. Aaron had bought a sofa from Big Lots, surprising himself. Their dining table had come from a local shop that had been secreted away on a side street. Everything followed a scheme of warm, comfortable colours.

Except for the one rich red chair and ottoman sitting beside an end table with a brass lamp, a dark green throw tossed over one corner of the back.

That was Spencer’s chair. And Aaron would never admit he liked it.


End file.
